


Marked

by saiditallbefore



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers: Endgame (Movie), F/F, Mentions of other characters - Freeform, Natasha Romanov Feels, POV Natasha Romanov, Post-Apocalypse, Post-snap, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, minor Clint/Laura, minor Okoye/Nakia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 11:57:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19723210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saiditallbefore/pseuds/saiditallbefore
Summary: Half of all life in the universe is gone.  It’s a stupid time to think about soulmarks.But there’s no way Natasha can think about anything else, because Carol Danvers touched her, skin-to-skin, for what must have been the first time, and now her mark has been transformed.





	Marked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Wavesinger](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Wavesinger/gifts).
  * Translation into 中文 available: [【翻译】标记Marked](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20412646) by [R_H_Felidae_Athena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_H_Felidae_Athena/pseuds/R_H_Felidae_Athena)



> Prompted by the tags “soulmate-identifying marks” and “post-apocalypse”. I’m pretty sure the Snap counts as an apocalypse!
> 
> Soulmark concept borrowed from ShanaStoryteller’s [survival is a talent](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12006417/chapters/27167826)

Natasha tries not to resent Carol for showing up too late for her help to matter. She came as soon as she could, after all, and she helped them kill Thanos. 

And there’s no way to know whether she could have helped them tip the scales, once Thanos had his hands on the Infinity Stones. No matter how powerful Carol is, the Infinity Gauntlet is— _was_ — more powerful.

Still. The ghosts of the missing— of the disappeared— loom large in Natasha’s mind. This is what the Avengers were assembled for, and when the stakes were higher than ever before, they failed.

It’s not Carol’s fault. But it’s easier to pretend that it is.

* * *

There’s work to be done, even after Thanos is dead. Half of the universe is gone, but that leaves the other half in shambles.

Even the Avengers— what’s left of them— are a wreck. Tony and Bruce and Thor have all scattered. At least Nat could find them, if she looked hard enough. Clint has dropped off the map so completely, she’s not even sure at first whether he’s among the disappeared.

But there’s still work to be done. People around the world were caught up in accidents in the immediate aftermath of the disappearances. There’s widespread looting and rioting. World leaders have disappeared all over— T’Challa is one of them— and countries are wracked by infighting.

The headlines scroll by on the news, and Natasha wonders what else isn’t being covered because everyone who could report on it is gone.

It’s Rhodey who speaks up first. “What are we gonna do?” 

“There’s nothing _to_ do.” The racoon— Rocket, his name is Rocket— kicks at the ground.

“There’s always something,” Carol says. “If it’s this bad on Earth, I don’t know what the rest of the galaxy is like. There has to be something we can do to help.”

Natasha looks at Steve. This is supposed to be the part where he speaks up, where he has a plan. But he just looks tired, more weighed down by loss than she’s seen him in years.

The only family Natasha has ever had is gone, and her best friend might be with them. Half of her team is gone. But she’s Russian— or she was. Grief has never been enough to stop her.

She looks around at the ragtag team that’s left. Herself and Steve. Rhodey. Nebula and Rocket. Carol.

“Carol’s right,” Natasha says. The other woman looks startled at being addressed by Natasha, who had mostly ignored her existence up until that point, before smoothing out her expression. 

Natasha looks back at the news, at the images of destruction and panic, and she makes a decision. “Danvers, Rhodes, you’re on search and rescue. Nebula, Rocket, I want you to make contact with General Okoye, see what you can do there. Steve—” She breaks off, looking again at Steve. He looks lost, and she changes her mind. “Steve, go with Rhodes. I’ll go with Danvers.” 

Around the room, her team straightens, looking like they have renewed purpose. 

Natasha smiles, all teeth and no joy. “Avengers, let’s go.”

* * *

As Carol pointed out, it’s a big universe. Bigger and more populated than Natasha had ever dreamed of. So when Carol insists on leaving to help the rest of the universe, and Nebula and Rocket make noises about following after her, Natasha tries not to take it personally.

It’s just— there’s so few of them already. She’s not _friends_ with these three, not exactly, but they’re on the same team. 

Natasha used to think attachments were for the weak. It’s becoming clear how wrong she was, because to let go again and again and again takes strength. It might take more than she has.

She presses communicators into Carol and Nebula’s hands. “You have to check in,” she says. “We want to know what’s going on out there.”

Nebula just nods gravely, but Carol throws her arms around Nat.

“I’ll be fine,” she says. “You call if you guys need anything, okay?” And then she’s gone.

Natasha is so startled by the gesture that she doesn’t notice the warmth in the mark on her hip until Carol is long gone.

* * *

At the first opportunity, she hurries back to her room and strips down.

The black ring has been on Natasha’s hip for as long as she can remember. It’s easily concealable, even in her skimpiest clothes, and the only person who knows she has it is Clint.

He has a soulmark too— an odd coincidence, since only about one in ten people have them. But his isn’t black; it’s a full-color sunflower that represents Laura, and has been ever since they shook hands on their first date.

Or it had been.

Laura and the kids disappeared in the Snap, with half of the universe, and Clint is in the wind. Half of all life in the universe is gone. It’s a stupid time to think about soulmarks. 

But there’s no way Natasha can think about anything else, because Carol Danvers touched her, skin-to-skin, for what must have been the first time, and now her mark has been transformed. It’s a hawk, in full color, its feathers spreading across her thigh. 

A hawk, for Carol. Natasha wonders what the mark on Carol’s hip looks like now, what the universe or whatever it is that guides soulmarks has chosen to represent Natasha.

Slowly, deliberately, Natasha puts her clothes back on. Carol is gone, at least for now. They both have jobs to do. 

This is no time to lose her head.

* * *

There’s always work to be done. It’s true that in the face of disaster, humanity could pull together— but it’s also true that humans sometimes cause the disasters. There’s missions— not just humanitarian work, but stopping weapons smugglers and stopping fights for territory that look like they’re getting out of hand. 

And in between all of that, there’s training back at the compound with whoever happens to be staying there this week: Nat and Steve are the constants, but Rhodey shows up pretty regularly (and pretends that he _hasn’t_ been hanging out wherever Tony is hiding) and Nebula and Rocket join in whenever they’re on Earth. Okoye has dropped by more than once, but with T’Challa and the rest of his family gone she’s taken on much of the burden of running Wakanda.

They’re sparring one day when Natasha catches sight of a soulmark— a leopard— on the inside of Okoye’s wrist. She glances away, afraid to ask about it. She knows now that soulmarks remain even if one soulmate was lost in the Snap, and the knowledge burns.

But Okoye catches the direction of her glance. “Her name was Nakia,” she says.

Natasha inclines her head. “I’m sorry.”

“She vanished with the others.” Okoye sighs. “She always wanted Wakanda to help the rest of the world. If I can do that now—”

“You can honor her memory. I understand.” Natasha searches for something to say, for once at a loss for words. It seems cruel that she may have found her soulmate just when so many people have lost theirs. That she and Carol would never have met if it hadn’t been for Thanos. That she doesn’t even know if they’re the kind of soulmates who actually seem meant to be together— not everyone falls in love with their soulmate, after all— but despite all of the skepticism Nat has expressed to Clint in the past on the subject, she’s interested in finding out.

But Okoye doesn’t seem interested in talking any more. She raises her spear and Natasha, grateful for the distraction, raises her sword.

* * *

No one has seen Clint since the Snap. Natasha can piece together enough of a trail to know that he’s still alive, but as much as she wants to drop everything and find him, she has responsibilities.

It’s hard not to wish he were here, when he’s the one person she’s spoken to about her soulmark in the past. 

Then again, soulmarks are probably the last thing he would want to hear about right now, even if he were willing to speak to her. To any of the Avengers.

But even though her oldest friend is off the grid, Natasha isn’t on her own.

Steve has taken to driving into the city most days, helping out where he can and talking to grief-stricken survivors. 

Natasha tries not to analyze his coping strategies— or lack thereof— too closely. 

She’s waiting with a pot of tea when he finally returns. He looks tired, but he always does anymore. They all do.

He looks up, sees her. “Hey. Did something happen?”

“Not like that,” Natasha says. “There’s just something on my mind.”

Steve stis, looking at her expectantly. Natasha pours him a cup of tea.

“What do you think about soulmarks?” she asks.

“I don’t have one,” he says immediately, as though she didn’t already know that.

“I do.” She sips her tea. 

“Oh.” Steve raises his eyebrows and blinks a few times. “I didn’t know. Are they…”

“Alive,” Natasha confirmed. “But it seems wrong, when so many people are gone.”

Steve takes a sip of his tea and looks off into the distance. “I think you should give it a chance. You shouldn’t give up a chance at happiness if you can help it.”

“I don’t even know if she wants to give it a chance.”

“Maybe that’s where you should start.”

* * *

It takes some time before she hears from Carol. Natasha tries not to take it personally; she knows the other woman is used to working alone.

Then she wonders if she _should_ take it personally.

Her worries are assuaged when Carol— in holographic form— shows up for the weekly check-in. 

“Sorry I’ve been out of contact,” she says. “There were some Kree factions who wanted to take advantage of the disappearances to start expanding again.”

“Aw, shit,” Rocket says. 

Next to him, Nebula curls her lip. “Do you need assistance?”

“I think I’ve got it handled. Me and these guys go way back.” Carol smiles viciously.

Rocket cackles— there’s no other word for it— and Natasha is once again reminded how vast the universe is, and how isolated Earth has been from most of it. She wants to ask about the Kree, and about Carol’s history with them. 

She forces herself to stay focused. “Right. Well, like Nebula said, let us know if you need anything. She looks around the semicircle, at all of the holographic forms, and tries not to feel lonely. Everyone except Steve is reporting in remotely this week.

“Unless there’s anything else?” Natasha asks. There’s negative murmurs around the room. “Right. Same time next week. Stay safe out there.”

One by one, the holographic forms flicker out of existence: Okoye, Nebula, Rocket, Rhodey. Carol remains behind, though, and looks from Natasha to Steve.

Steve stands up. “I’ll just—” He walks away abruptly without bothering to find an excuse. Natasha rolls her eyes.

“So,” Carol begins. Her image flickers, and Natasha wishes that they were speaking in person instead of like this.

“Do you want to see it?” Natasha asks. 

Carol raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t it—” she gestures at her hip.

Natasha shrugs. She’s hardly keeping it hidden anymore, and she’s never been shy about her body. When Carol doesn’t have any other protests, Natasha rolls down the top of her leggings and pulls up her shirt.

Carol reaches out a hand, as if to touch her, before she remembers that they can’t do that right now. “Is that a hawk?”

Natasha nods.

“Yours is a magpie,” Carol says. She briefly glances around, then begins to pull off her uniform.

“You don’t—” Natasha begins.

Carol laughs. “I was in the Air Force. And the Starforce. I can handle a little nudity.”

Natasha snorts. 

The mark on Carol’s hip _is_ a magpie. It’s hard to tell exactly what it looks like, with everything tinted blue through the holographic interface, but Nat has an imagination.

They stand like that for a few long minutes, just looking at each other, before an alarm begins to sound on Carol’s side of the call.

Carol pulls her uniform back on. “Sounds like the emergency comm. I have to take that.”

“Stay safe,” Natasha says, just as Carol winks out of sight.

* * *

Natasha isn’t expecting to hear from Carol again outside of their team check-ins. They both have more important things to do.

But apparently Carol doesn’t agree. The next week, she hangs around after the check-in, looking expectantly at Natasha.

Steve just smirks and walks away, without even an excuse this time.

“Hey,” Carol says.

“Hey.” Natasha tries not to let any confusion come through in her voice.

Carol opens her mouth, closes it, then says, “Sorry, I just thought— I’m probably not gonna be back on Earth for a while.”

“I figured.”

“But I thought we could, maybe, talk?” Carol tilts her head, and it occurs to Natasha that the other woman is just as unsure as she is.

That’s how it starts: with hesitation. They share stories, with heavy pauses whenever they refer to one of the disappeared. They’re interrupted often, as Carol fields emergency calls on the far end of the universe and Natasha coordinates relief work on Earth. 

Natasha stumbles into her room at the end of a long day and sees the blue light on her private communicator blinking.

She presses it, and Carol’s form flickers into view.

“Everything okay?” Natasha asks.

“Yeah, sorry,” Carol says. “It wasn’t important. It can wait.”

Natasha collapses on her bed. “I don’t mind.” She tucks her hair behind her ear. It’s starting to grow out.

“Yeah?” Carol smiles back softly. She’s not wearing her uniform today; she’s wearing an old leather jacket with a t-shirt and slacks. 

“You look nice,” Natasha says. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you outside your uniform.”

“I very distinctly recall you seeing me outside of my uniform.” Carol’s smirk is wicked.

Oh, so that’s how they’re playing this. “Well, it was a pretty nice view.” Natasha licks her lips. “Not just the soulmark, either.”

“I didn’t get much of a view when I saw yours,” Carol says.

“I can fix that.” Natasha smirks and slowly pulls her shirt over her head. 

Carol eyes her appreciatively, and, at Natasha’s challenging look, copies Natasha’s motion. 

Despite what she’d said earlier, Natasha hadn’t really taken in Carol’s body when they’d showed off their soulmarks to each other. She does now, looking over Carol’s toned body and her rounded breasts. Apparently, Carol wasn’t wearing a bra. And at Carol’s hips, just above her low-slung pants, Natasha can see the edges of her soulmark peeking out.

Natasha reaches back and unhooks her own bra, tossing it onto the floor next to her shirt. “Too bad I can’t see you in real colors,” she says. “High-tech blue just doesn’t do you justice.”

Carol laughs. “You either,” she says. “But god, you’re still gorgeous.”

Natasha’s played this game dozens of times, but Carol sounds so _earnest_ that it still stops her in her tracks for a moment.

But if she thinks that’s good, well. Natasha can give her a show.

Natasha runs her hands through her hair, then trails them down her body, lightly running her fingernails over her breasts, keeping eye contact with Carol. 

Carol takes a shaky breath, and Natasha smiles.

“If you were here, this is what I’d have you do,” Natasha says, as she gently pinches one of nipples. The sensation is enough to make her breath catch, but she still hears Carol’s next words.

“Is that all you’d have me do?”

That sounds like a challenge. “It’s definitely not all,” Natasha says. Natasha’s pants are still on, but that’s easily remedied. It’s very hard to look sexy while taking one’s pants off, but she tries anyway, and Carol doesn’t laugh at her.

Natasha presses a finger to her clit, sucking in a breath at the sensation. “I’d have you do this,” she says, angling herself to give Carol a better view. Then she presses two fingers inside of her cunt. “Then I’d have you put your fingers in me.” 

Natasha steals a glance at the other woman. It’s hard to tell, with the color of the holograph, but it looks like Carol is flushed. She’s definitely got a hand pushed inside of her pants. 

“I would have you—” Natasha begins, but she doesn’t finish the words. An orgasm steals over her, and she is too caught up in the sensation to think, let alone talk. When she sits up and looks at Carol, the other woman looks as spent as she feels.

She’s about to say something, anything, when her phone rings.

Natasha throws her head back. “Shit.”

“Next time,” Carol says.

“Next time,” Natasha says, hoping that there is, in fact, a next time.

* * *

When Carol finally returns to Earth, she lands in a blaze of light, and Natasha marvels again at how weird— and fucked-up— her life has gotten. 

“I was in the neighborhood, thought I’d drop in,” Carol says.

“And by neighborhood, you mean…” Rhodey says, with something approximating humor in his voice.

“Neighborhood, galaxy.” Carol shrugs, with a faux-innocent look. “It’s all the same, really.”

Natasha ducks her head to hide a smile. When she looks up, she catches Carol’s eye. 

“Hey,” Natasha says.

Carol smiles. “Hey.”

Rhodey looks back and forth between them with obvious confusion, but just shakes his head. “Good to see you, Carol!” he calls as he walks away.

“It is good to see you,” Natasha says. This time, she doesn’t try to hide the smile playing on her lips.

In response, Carol pulls her close and kisses her. Natasha threads her fingers through Carol’s hair as Carol’s firm hands press against her back.

Natasha sighs against Carol’s lips. Carol presses their foreheads together, and Natasha takes a moment to just breathe.

There’s still no way to bring the disappeared back, and no way to put the universe back the way it was. There probably will never be a way to fix things, not completely. But with a team behind her and Carol by her side, Natasha can’t help but think that they might just be able to keep struggling on.


End file.
